So Why Don't You Like It?
by pacphys
Summary: Donatello and Casey Jones chat.


Wow, it's been awhile since I've posted. I feel really rusty. This little bunny has been hopping around for a long time! It's finally been caught, tagged and released! Anyway... Here goes nothing. Rated for brief drug reference.

I own nothing. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Master Splinter belong to... Nickelodeon.

* * *

"What do ya mean you don't like it?"

"Exactly that, Casey. I don't like it." Donatello responded, in an exasperated tone. "I don't like it. I never have. I really cannot comprehend why you insist I do."

"But it's like part of geek code or something!"

Donatello could only stare for a moment, something that was distressingly too common with Casey. "Gee... thanks, Casey." The sarcasm was thick, but Don thought chances were good that the human hadn't caught it. Don turned and rolled his eyes as he positioned himself on the bench and lifted the bar above him. Surely Casey would know that Don wasn't exactly a stereotypical geek. "Remind me why I'm lifting with you right now?"

"Because Raph destroyed the coffee table and ain't allowed outta his room."

"Casey, we've really got to work on those responses to rhetorical questions." Don said once he finished his set and put the weights back on the rack.

Casey only grunted as they traded spots, and Casey performed his set in silence. Something that was just wrong as far as Casey was concerned. Raph would be hounding him, critiquing his technique, teasing him or generally joking around. Don was just... Don.

"So why don't ya like it?" Casey asked as he sat up and looked at his lifting buddy.

"What is it with you and '20 Questions' today?" Don asked, though he knew Casey wasn't going to let up until he was satisfied with the response he got. "I just don't like it. Do I really need a reason?" He gestured for Casey to get out of the way, hoping it could lead to the end of this line of questioning. No such luck.

"Yeah, you do." Casey responded as he stood.

Don groaned and rolled his eyes, nearly reaching a point of exasperation. With a slight grunt of frustration, he added weight to the bar moved to the bench.

"Come on, Donnie. Even Leo chats in here."

"Fine, pick a subject." Don said as he laid back down on the bench and Casey moved to spot him.

"Why don't you like-"

"A different subject." Don amended as he lifted the bar once more.

"Geez, you're really uptight about this."

He couldn't help it, Don slammed the bar back on the rack two reps in.

"You didn't finish that set."

"I'm aware of that, Casey." Don said through gritted teeth. He took a deep, calming breath and released it before lifting the bar again.

"Means you have to start again." Casey continued.

"I know." Don ground out before lowering the bar again. Two extra reps on that set, was going to take it's toll on him finishing the series later.

"So why don't you like it?"

Donatello was going to scream. He was going to rant, rave and generally tear Casey Jones a new one if he didn't let this go! Instead, Don took another deep breath after racking the weights. He sat up and turned so he could look Casey in the eye for his response to make sure it got through the guy's thick skull!

"Casey, I'm a ninja. There's that whole control of mind and body thing that's sort of important."

"Oh don't give me that, Donnie. I seen the herbal teas and stuff Master Splinter's got in his room. There's freaking shrooms and shit in there."

There was a three count before Don could think again. Okay, so Casey did have him on the mild hallucinogens that Master Splinter occasionally used in herbal remedies and meditation aids. Don stood to trade places with a groan.

"They're not 'shrooms', Casey. And when used properly mild hallucinogens can actually aid in healing."

"Like pot?"

Don groaned. "No, not like pot." Well, maybe a little like pot... there were several states that allowed medical marijuana...

"It's exactly like pot. Weird leaves that make things woowoo and 'aid in healing'." Casey retorted as he picked up the weights.

Don was pretty sure at this point that the comments were now generally intended less as true argument and more as a path to get a rise out of him. And the worst part was that it was working!

"And that's different from a pharmacy full of hallucinogens that you and other humans have access to just by visiting a dentist and getting a tooth pulled?"

Casey finished his set and waved off the question, took a drink of water and stood. He helped Don add weight to the bar in that weird silence. For a long moment, Don laid on the bench and looked up at the bar. He knew he was really going to regret those two extra reps in about 20 seconds. His arms felt like noodles already, there was no way he was going to finish this last set.

"So why don't you like it?"

"Casey! For crying out loud, why won't you let it go?" Don put his hands on the bar and lifted it from the rack.

"Because you not liking it is just wrong."

Don somehow refrained from screaming aloud, but a mental one echoed through his mind as he slammed out the last couple reps and racked the weight and jumped to his feet.

"I don't like it, Casey! I have never liked, and I'm thinking chances are good that I will never like it! I'm not overly fond of how it smells, I cannot stand the way it tastes and I absolutely cannot tolerate the way I feel afterward. Is that enough for you?" Don didn't wait for a response before jumping into the second half of his rant. "It makes me jumpy, and I can't concentrate! If I can't focus, I can't work or fight well. That makes me ineffective and unproductive. It's not particularly healthy and I see no benefit to it! Nevermind that Master Splinter frowns upon the use of unnecessary stimulants, especially those that hit the system like a Mack truck. And..." he paused briefly, mid-rant to take a breath. "Why on Earth is my dislike of coffee so important to you, anyway?" Don shouted. In response, Casey only nodded and looked at the bench press.

"Good job lifting today, that last set was 15 pounds more than last time." Casey said, walking out of the weight area with a smirk on his face.

Donatello could only stare after him.


End file.
